


Love Lines

by Anonymous



Category: DCU
Genre: Failed Attempts at Threesomes, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 03:02:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6356254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason's a dick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Lines

Jason calls it three-way calling, because Jason is an asshole.

 

Dick shakes his head in dis-fucking-belief, and says, “I’m not really hearing this, am I?”

 

Jason is sunk deep into one of his rare moments of complete sincerity as he says, “I really think we should bring Babs into this. I mean, she’s already watching, isn’t she?”

“Jason, _no_.” Dick is adamant. “Our lives are creepy enough.”

 

“What’s so creepy about having your adopted younger brother and ex-girlfriend together in a threesome? It’s downright wholesome, compared to some of the stuff we see.” And under his breath, he says, “And do.”

 

There’s a moment of eerie quiet where Dick wonders what he’s done to deserve all of this.

 

Like, really. What sin has he committed. (In another life? Probably in another life.This one is already so hellish.)

 

Jason smiles, pleased at the impact he’s been able to make. Gently, he says, “Think about it, Nightwang.”

 

There’s a deadly silence that -- Dick breaks. “Jay,” he says, his voice turning sweet and coy.

 

Jason blinks, suddenly (inexplicably) nervous.

 

“Jay, that’s a _great_ idea, I think you be the one to tell Babs all about it.”

  


 

*

Miles away, Babs makes a noise that, on anyone else, could constitute as a giggle. She adjusts her glasses and murmurs to herself that _she’d like to see them try._ And she would. They had her number, after all.

 

In the meantime, Gotham isn’t going to protect itself.

 

 

*

Okay. The thing is. Hey, okay, yeah, that this is the completion of all his adolescent fantasies (well, most of his adolescent fantasies -- the ones that didn’t include yellow go-go boots or grimdarkness. Actually, Jason’s adolescent fantasies were a diverse bunch.) But it’s this: Dick Grayson on his knees, his beautiful, beautiful (so beautiful it’s actually kinda _goofy_ ) face distorted in the throes of passion.

 

For him. And it’s better than any porn, shit, and Dick calling *his* name like he means it, he really does and -- 

 

_Dick, I didn’t know you cared, man._

 

“Jason! Jason!”

 

_Let me hear it._

 

“ _Jason_ , you fucking asshole, get up!”

 

And he’s pushed out of bed and crashes on the hardwood floor of Dick’s bedroom. There’s only discarded clothes to soften his fall and his bones are still protesting when he gets hit with a pillow.

 

He spits out a mouthful of pillow and yanks Dick down towards him and pulls Dick’s beautiful, scowling face to his --

 

“Problems, babe?”

 

Dick is speaking with clenched teeth. “ _We need to talk.”_

 

Well. If that’s not an invitation to leave, he doesn’t know what is. And Jason isn’t the kind of guy to overstay his welcome (usually, all right, _sometimes_ ) so he get up and lets Dick do the same. But it’s not like Jason isn’t watching Dick like a hawk all the while, as he roots through mounds of _stuff._ It’s unbelievable how much _stuff_ Dick has, gathered through his time at the manor and then bouncing around New York and now Bludhaven.

 

Dick collects stuff as easily as he does people, but Jason’s always been most comfortable with being a rolling stone. Wherever he laid his hat was his home and all that shit.

 

Good to go, at any time.

 

Dick’s still looking for something clean to sling over his (naked) (bruised) torso when Jason wriggles into his jeans (the fit is tighter than usual, because it’s actually Dick’s jeans) and a plain white tee that more yellowish than white at this point.

 

And he’s ready to go.

 

(Jason has left his guns at home, through mutual agreement.)

 

Dick shoots him a weary look, and there’s bags under his eyes, and there are bags under those bags. He says, “You should, you know, get that looked at.”

 

Jason feels...

 

Well, not _sorry_ for Dick --

 

(Because, yeah, he’s _not that kind of guy._ )

 

And it’s hard to find sympathy in your heart for a golden boy (only slightly tarnished.)

 

But Dick’s _Dick_. It’s weird to see him look so beat up. Even if it’s (sort of, in a roundabout-way) Jason’s fault.

 

“We need to talk about how you can’t break into my apartment anymore. I’ll give you a key, but...” Dick’s voice fades away as he goes into the kitchen. Jason rests for a few seconds more before getting up to the sounds of Dick cursing. He’s out the door before Dick can storm in, demanding to know where the _fuck_ Jason’s hidden all the cereal.

 

“See ya next week, big bro!”


End file.
